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Fear and ends and the fear of ends.
June 9, 2011
I fear we, as people, may never end.
That our fearing so may be the very cause of that elusive end.
I fear the hands I have layed away
in boxes on shelves in closets may stay.
I fear the motion that keeps my legs
kicking in their shut eyed tide - tense and loose.
I feel that this fear is animate and separate,
encompassing all the binding anxieties
of my needing an end
and forcing this end
and fearing the end I have forced.
O, fear not.
And end me.
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